


The Coming of Change, the Passing of Time

by doctornemesis



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Porn with Feelings, Sex, Sexual Content, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 08:41:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9483290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctornemesis/pseuds/doctornemesis
Summary: "If there was life after death, he only wanted this."---Baze feels the coming of change, and though he resists its tides, Chirrut chargers forward, welcoming it with open arms, and where Chirrut goes, he must follow.





	

**Author's Note:**

> 1.) It's been a long time since I've written, hopefully I'm not _that _rusty. I watched Rogue One, and my heart broke, but I'm addicted to angst, and absolutely addicted to Chirrut and Baze, so I hope you enjoy.__
> 
>  
> 
> _  
> _2.) I do not own Star Wars, nor any of the characters here mentioned._  
>  _

   The rain brought aches and pains long before the first drop ever hit. The temperature plummeted, scattering the dry cold they normally slept through naked and huddled together under a multitude of blankets away. Change was well on its way, and Baze Malbus could feel it in his old, weary bones.

 

   “You perceive something you’re not telling me,” Chirrut tsked in the dark, arms wrapped around the thick of Baze’s waist from behind. “Keeping secrets now, hm?”

 

   “Shouldn’t you be asleep?” Baze asked, words gruff though he placed one of Chirrut’s hands over his chest, right above his heart, locking their fingers together.

 

   “I could ask you the same,” Chirrut said with a laugh, lips brushing against the shell of Baze’s ear.

 

   “You know I can’t sleep when it rains.”

 

   “And you know I can’t sleep when you can’t sleep.”

 

   Baze gave a short snort, but he knew this was not a battle he could ever hope to win; _Chirrut_ was a battle he could never hope to win against. It was pointless for a man to try and take a stand against a hurricane, his mother would say. Chirrut was a force of nature.

 

   “You feel it, too, don’t you?”

 

   A low groan tore through Baze’s chest, but he rolled over to face Chirrut’s inquisitive face nonetheless. A striking sight, even in the dark web woven through early morning, spinning around them in a pale blue that fought against a roaring, humid gray, ensnaring them together. Chirrut trailed a thumb across Baze’s furrowed brow, wishing to read him more clearly.  

 

   “I feel the howl of the wind against the wooden slats of the roof,” he said, turning into Chirrut’s touch.

 

   “Today is it,” Chirrut said, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Tomorrow is gone.”

 

   “So the _Force_ has said?”

 

   “So _you_ have felt.”

 

   It was Chirrut’s way of saying he was more attuned with the other man than he was with his faith, though his belief in both had remained absolute throughout the years. Baze felt an inkling of guilt begin to wash over him, but before he could truly dwell, Chirrut had flicked him across the nose. A way to both refocusing and re-centering him, teasing him for always frowning.  

 

   “I don’t know what it is I feel, exactly, Chirrut, but it feels like the end. Of what, I cannot tell.”

 

   Chirrut hummed low to himself, fingers combing through Baze’s unraveled hair. How often had he longed for that exact touch? To have Chirrut run his fingers through his hair forever and ever, until they both lulled into a peaceful slumber together.

 

   If there was life after death, that would be all that he asked for.

 

   “We won’t live forever, you know?” Chirrut said. “We feel it more and more with each passing day.”

 

   Baze felt a large, powerful wave lurch in his stomach, overwhelmed, he could feel his emotions brimming even as he fought them down. “You _say_ such things…,” he started then stopped, choked.

 

   “I _see_ them,” Chirrut said, correcting him with a pressing of lips to lips. “I _feel_ them.”

 

   “I love you,” Baze said, gripping Chirrut’s face in between his large hands, clinging to any topic other than the one Chirrut was insistent upon. “I love you more than anything...more than any temple, any moon, any star.”

 

   Chirrut allowed himself to be kissed roughly by him, by his resolve to never lose him. “I know,” he said with a short, forced laugh. “I _know_.”

 

   No lingering doubts.

 

   No fear.

 

  “Your joints hurt, yes?”

 

   Baze gave a curt nod. “Yes. Too much stress on these old bones of mine,” he said.

 

   “My poor Baze, taking the entire galaxy upon your shoulders all by yourself,” he murmured, placing a kiss to Baze’s naked shoulder.

 

   “Not alone,” Baze said, stirring to Chirrut’s ministrations.

 

   “My protector,” he whispered, taking each of Baze’s hands into his own, placing gentle kisses along scarred and beaten knuckles.

 

   “Now I am your protector? Normally you insist that it’s the other way around,” he said, pitch low as the two moved closer together, blankets tangled around their legs as Chirrut mapped his body with mouth and hands alone.

 

   “Normally it is,” Chirrut quipped with a mischievous wink of an eye, the pale blue of them seeming to illuminate their small, cluttered dwelling.

 

   Chirrut insisted he wasn’t a hoarder.  

 

   Chirrut trailed his hands everywhere, as though he were saving it to memory for the first time...or the last. Baze felt flushed, like a young man exploring another for the first time as well. Arousal crept over him, lust and love and loss mingling together.

 

   “I’m pleased to see that you still crave me,” Baze said, near breathless as Chirrut’s hands slid up along his inner thighs, caressing him...holding him.   

 

   “How could I not appreciate a work of art?” he mouthed along the curve of Baze’s neck, settling his weight over Baze’s lap.

 

   “Flatterer…”

 

   “So strong...even now you could still ravage me,” Chirrut said, lips ghosting across his own as Baze groaned low.

 

   “Are you trying to tell me something, Chirrut?”

 

   “Are you willing to do what I say, Baze?”

 

   Baze surged forward, accepting Chirrut’s challenge with gusto. Baze could happily drown in the other’s essence, suffocate in Chirrut’s scent, his strength...his beauty. Chirrut was beautiful.

 

   Sometimes, in all the madness, he forgot that.

 

   “You’re beautiful,” he said as he pinned Chirrut’s naked, sinewy body down upon the mattress, staring down at him as the other starred up.

 

   Sometimes their eyes met, and Baze remembered...remembered when Chirrut could regard him with sight.

 

   “Am I?” Chirrut asked with a small quirk of his mouth.

 

   “Too beautiful for a man like me.”

 

  “A man like you?” Chirrut questioned, as though he were truly pondering what Baze had said. “A man like you...so strong, so brilliant...so brave.”

 

   “I couldn’t do _anything_ ,” Baze argued, eyes pleading for reason as he stared down upon his partner in life.

 

   Chirrut _was_ his life.

 

   “ _No_ one could,” Chirrut said, grinding his hips upward to show Baze how much he desired him, how much he _cherished_ him. “But you saved _me_.”

 

   “You _lost_ …”

 

   “I _gained_ so much more,” he said, pulling Baze down for a kiss, all teeth and tongue, as though they had survived another day, another assault on their way of life.

 

   Baze could only kiss back, hands trailing up and down Chirrut’s sides as the other dragged blunt nails down Baze’s spine. Baze’s lips and teeth found their way down the side of Chirrut’s neck, leaving behind unapologetic marks. Chirrut’s length laid curved against his abdomen, flushed pink and dripping just for him.

 

   “Show me,” Chirrut murmured, their naked bodies sliding and grinding against each other, blankets kicked off in a huff. “Show me how much I mean to you...show me just how much you love me… _one_ last time.”

 

   Baze wanted to cry out, to shout no, that this was not it...this was not the time, but Chirrut raged on, his winds roaring, the storm far too great to withstand. Baze could only try to hold on. Hold on to Chirrut for as long as he could.

 

   “Spread your legs,” he commanded, and Chirrut obeyed.

 

   Chirrut bit his lip as Baze’s aggression roared. Baze spit into the palm of his hand, stroking Chirrut’s length with long, hard strokes, egging the other on. Baze felt the sudden desire to ruin him, claim him, never let him go.

 

   The feeling left him overwhelmed and despairing. Chirrut opened up to him without question, encouraging him to go further as he gripped the sheets beneath him; moaning, groaning...whimpering out his appreciation. Baze wanted nothing more than to be in him; to be one with him.

 

   Connected.

 

   Together.

 

   Baze could never let go. No matter the distance he traveled, he would always return home. Chirrut _was_ home.

 

   “Where did we…,” Baze began, cut short as Chirrut broke away from him.

 

   The bathroom, that was where they had last made love. Tired and lazy and old. Steady. That time was safe, practiced. Tender.

 

   This was not.

   

   Chirrut was suddenly on him, kissing him as he crawled up onto his lap, shoving the oil into Baze’s hands, demanding his fingers. Baze was in no state to deny him, filling him with two and then three fingers, scissoring him open slowly as memories flashed behind his eyes; all the times they had ever made love, all the times they had ever _fucked_. Chirrut gasped, clutching Baze’s shoulders as he rode those digits with a contradictory mixture of grace and debauchery.

 

   “Baze,” he said, breathless and panting. “Enough. I’m ready.”

 

   Baze placed a large hand around the back of Chirrut’s neck, bringing the other man face-to-face with him. “You’re ready when I say you’re ready,” he said, earning him a full-body tremble from Chirrut who whined lowly at his words.

 

   “ _Please_ ,” Chirrut said, knowing what effect that lone word had on Baze.

 

   Never fighting fair, that one.

 

   Baze settled Chirrut down upon the bed, teasing his length with the tip of his tongue as Chirrut writhed beneath him. Chirrut gripped him by his hair, bringing him up for a kiss. Baze knew he was losing patience.

 

   “You are frustrating me,” Chirrut said as he broke their kiss.

 

   Baze laughed, a rare smile gracing his lips. “Patience,” he said.

 

   “I’ve run out of that, I’m afraid,” Chirrut said, kissing Baze once again as he spread his legs further apart to make room for Baze’s larger figure.

 

   Baze, himself, was losing patience. Baze could never deny Chirrut anything, and so Baze settled himself in between Chirrut’s thighs, kissing him one last time as he pushed in, slow ever slowly. Chirrut hated that, he felt as though Baze viewed him as something fragile...something breakable.

 

   Though, that was never Baze’s intention.

 

   “You okay?” he asked, steadying himself as he pressed in further.

 

   “I’d be better if you weren’t going so slow,” Chirrut argued, wrapping his legs around Baze, bringing him closer.

 

   Baze gave up, snapping his hips forward, pleased as Chirrut gripped the sheets beneath him. Soon, he was moving freely within him. Chirrut moved to greet his every thrust. He craved every sound of pleasure Chirrut ever made.

 

   Chirrut wished to be ravaged, and so Baze set out to grant it for him. Chirrut loved when he felt as though Baze was everywhere all at once, and so Baze covered Chirrut’s entire body with his own, placing the other man’s hands above his head, pinning his wrists down. Chirrut laughed, his face pulled into a pleased grin as he lifted his head, demanding a kiss. Baze removed one hand, using it to cradle Chirrut’s cheek, studying him before pressing his lips against Chirrut’s.

 

   “Perfect,” Chirrut said in between gasps.

 

   Baze smiled again, giving a short lived laugh as he pounded into him mercilessly. “You’re perfect,” he said, reaching down to kiss him again, in which Chirrut gladly received, shaking beneath him.

 

   “You’re going to leave bruises, if you haven’t already,” he said, a beaming smile to his face.

 

   “Would you like it if I released you?”

 

   Chirrut shook his head, crying out as Baze carried on a short and brutal pace. “Never,” he said.

 

   “You’re a strange creature to behold.”

 

   “What does that make you, then?”

 

   “Another strange creature,” Baze answered, releasing his hold so that he may shift their positions where he had Chirrut sitting upon his lap.

 

   Chirrut was everywhere all at once, filling every sense Baze had. Chirrut moved against him, rolling his hips up as he fought for both of their pleasures. Baze returned the favor as he took Chirrut in hand, jerking him off with slow, steady movements, creating a separate pace than Chirrut, taking his time to bring him over the edge.

 

   Chirrut settled his weight up and then down, hands in Baze’s hair as he grew close, closer still. Baze settled one hand on Chirrut’s hip, digging in so deep as to bruise where his thumb was. Their breath grew ragged, hearts pounding rapidly within their respective cages.

 

   “You’re so close,” Chirrut teased.

 

   “I’m as close as you are,” he argued, groaning as Chirrut raised himself, and then dropped down.

 

   “I love you,” Chirrut said as he lovingly stroked Baze’s face.

 

   Baze reached his peak then, climaxing as Chirrut continued to ride him. Chirrut was close, so close as Baze leaned forward, sinking his teeth into the side of Chirrut’s neck.

 

   Chirrut gasped, coming in between them in spurts. “You devil, you know what that does to me,” he said, leaning his forehead against Baze’s, stroking his fingers through his hair.

 

   “The rain has stopped,” he added. “You should really try and get some rest,” he said. “We’re going to have a lot to do.”

 

   I’ll rest as long as you continue to stroke my hair.”

 

   Chirut smiled, a smug little smile at that.

 

   Baze helped to clean them both off as they settled back down onto the bed, blankets back on as they caught their breath. Chirrut stroked his hair as he had promised, placing gentle kisses across Baze’s face and neck. Baze knew that Chirrut was contemplating as to what he should say.

 

   “The _Force_ will guide us,” he said, finally.

 

   “ _You_ will guide us.”

 

   If there was life after death, he only wanted this.

  



End file.
